


it's gotta get bad before it gets good

by love1etters



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Smut, pennywise doesn't even TOUCH THEM, uuuh love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/love1etters/pseuds/love1etters
Summary: Richie Tozier. The name rings a bell on Eddie’s head and it’s the loudest bell he’s ever heard, it rings louder than Myra’s annoying words. It makes his heart beat faster too, like his ribcage won’t take it.It’s him. The guy he’s been running from since he left Derry, the one that makes his palms sweaty and body shivering and mouth dry as the desert. The memories strike him; the two of them bickering at each other, annoying the other Losers every single day. It’s absurd to think that he misses it.(or eddie lives a miserable life and doesn't have the guts to try to make it better.so richie shows up to help him.)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first attempt at reddie.. i'm their stupid bitch so yeah. hope u like it!  
> it's also the first short chapter of three!
> 
> special thanks to 𝐬𝐡𝐞 for being my first reader and reviewer, te amo!!

At Eddie’s boring workplace, one can hear the colleagues talk about work like “some days are bad, some days are good”. It wasn’t the most usual saying at the risk analysis department, but they used it to make them feel better about their mistakes at work, such as analyzing too much or not analyzing at all.

Eddie laughs awkwardly when he hears it; he stronly disagrees. To him, all days seem to be bad days, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He discovered it quite some time ago, not for the lack of trying, cause he tried alright.

He has a steady job, a wife that loves him, a good apartment and an even better car, but since he was a kid, Eddie analyses too much the but’s, the what if’s. And recently, they’re getting to his head a little too much.

He has a steady job, _but_ he’s now realizing that it doesn’t make him happy and it’s draining every bit of energy of his tiny body.

He has a wife that loves him, _but_ he already got crazy worrying about everything alone, and because he got married, he now has Myra to worry with and for him too. She calls fifteen times a day, when he’s at work, and even when she doesn’t call, Eddie can hear her voice echoing at the back of his head: your skin will burn if you do this, you’ll die if you do that.

He has a good apartment and an even better car, _but_ – well, to be honest, he doesn’t care about the apartment and the car. Maybe the thing with these two is that he can’t decide rather it’s best to be alone and anxious in the car or to be anxious and with Myra at home. He hates both.

Because of the _but’s_ , Eddie finds himself sitting on the tiny bench of a bar, listening to his work mates talk about what famous actress they would cheat their wives with. He notices his mouth forming a slight smile and it’s sad, actually. He’s smiling because he’s sorrounded by happy people, they’re laughing, talking nonsense, drinking and having fun.

Eddie hasn’t smiled like that in a while. It’s natural and it’s good, he thinks, deciding to ignore the weird and worried feeling is his stomach for the first time in years.

“Ladies and gentlemen”, the voice comes from the man on the small stage, he holds a microfone and seems very proud of what he’ll say next. “Coming straight from L.A., give a warm welcome to a big friend of mine, Richie Tozier!”

 _Richie Tozier_. The name rings a bell on Eddie’s head and it’s the loudest bell he’s ever heard, it rings louder than Myra’s annoying words. It makes his heart beat faster too, like his ribcage won’t take it.

It’s him. The guy he’s been running from since he left Derry, the one that makes his palms sweaty and body shivering and mouth dry as the desert. The memories strike him; the two of them bickering at each other, annoying the other Losers every single day. It’s absurd to think that he misses it.

“Good night, everyone!”, and God, his voice hits the same. Eddie has to grasp himself to the conter so he won’t fall face down. “Thanks Gavin for inviting me, this bitch only remembers me when he needs a last minute show, ya’ know? Fucking asshole.”

He’s only been there 30 seconds and the people are already laughing. Eddie used to hate his jokes when they were kids, although some of them were actually funny, but he’d never admit it. So he watches the whole show, here and there getting a tap on the shoulder from the guys from work, they are loving it. He gets some good laughs too, heart still almost falling from his mouth. When it ends, his colleagues have already left, too drunk to remember this tomorrow, and Myra has left 33 messages.

He knows he needs to go home, his face is all red and his hands trembling a little. There’s no plausible reason for him still being there. Yet he is, and the famous Richie Tozier sits right beside him.

“Whiskey, my dear fellow. The strongest you got!”, he almost screams to the bartender as he punches the counter lazily. Eddie’s gonna die right here right now if he sees him.

Richie’s eyes wander through the counter till they meet his. They give a good look at each other.

“Eddie?”

Their eyes start to burn while they both try to say something, mouth opening and closing, with no life sounds coming out. Maybe dead sounds, like a zombie’s last breath. It’s a new feeling. No, not new... Old. Richie certainly has felt this before. It’s an old and bittersweet feeling crawling into their mouths.

“Eduardo, it’s really you!”, Richie slaps the other’s back and Eddie almost falls from his seat.  
“I-It is. Yeah, it’s me. And it’s you. Hey, Richie.”

Richie’s hand lingers a little too much on Eddie’s shirt. “How’ve you been, you little shit?! It’s been long, huh? What you’ve been up to?”

“Yeah, it’s been, what, 25 years? I’m fine, i’ve been... been working a lot. Risk analyst.”

“Ris analyst?”, Richie looks at him with wary eyes. His hand is far from Eddie now, holding a short glass. “What the fuck is that?”

“I prevent companies from making huge mistakes. I spend my days projecting investment tragedies.”

“Well, that sounds terrible. Are you...” He coughs. “Are you with someone?”

“Yeah, uh, i got married quite some time ago. Her name is Myra.”

“Good for you, i guess. I’ve been single, flyin’ solo since i left your mom.”

“Shut up!” Eddie wishes he could sound a little grumpier, but his voice adapts to the fond smile on his face. He giggles nervously. “How’s the comedian career going? Cause, from what i saw it today...”, he takes a sip of his drink. “You’re pretty much the worst.”

Richie smiles wide.

“It’s fucking great, actually! I’m a celebrity or something. Get payed to talk shit, it’s my fucking dream, Eds. I was in L.A. when Gavin called in panic cause he had nothing good for the stage tonight, so I convinced my agent to come to New York.”

They ask each other these things as if Eddie didn’t create an anonymous Instagram account just to follow Richie. And as Richie didn’t look for Eddie in every social media he could think of in 25 years.

“Can I buy you a drink, Eds?” And Eds is sure he can’t stay here any second longer, keeps repeating himself that, but – and this is one of the but’s he learned to be found of – he stays anyway, for a reason he can’t quite explain. It just feels right. He let’s Myra know through a text that he’s still alive and well, and he’ll be home soon.

Richie buys him a drink and they talk, laugh, have a fun of their own, with the bickering and the mom jokes, as if the time that kept them apart was nothing more than 10 minutes. That feeling in Eddie’s stomach lingers through the whole night, it gets warmer with every subtle touch they share with each other.

His knee touches Richie’s and this electric thing he can’t describe goes from his head to his feet. Feels good, Richie has it too and it’s stronger than it ever been, he remembers feeling this when they were a bunch of stupid kids trying to fuck up a clown. He stops at the second glass of whiskey, deciding he wants to be sober enough to feel everything that Eds making him feel.

They stay talking till 2 am. None of them touches the subject of leaving till they finally gotta leave. Eddie calls them a cab and they annoy each other a little more on the way to Eddie’s appartment.

Their hands keep trying to find a way to touch the other, and they have a moment there, Richie takes Eddie’s hand in silence and fidgets with his fingers a little. It’s a lovely thing to have met again, but as soon as their eyes meet, Richie drops it.

“Can you wait a little?”, Eddie asks to the driver before Richie does it. They both get out of the car, shoulders bumping.

“This is some fancy building, Eduardo!” Richie adjusts his glasses and put his hands on his pockets. He needs to control the urge to kiss him.

“I guess. So... Tonight was...”

“Not the worst thing in the world, right?”

“Right.” Eddie’s hand hurts a little, he holds his key too tight in his fist. He needs to control the urge to hug him. “I-I’ve missed you”, he whispers, almost inaudible but just loud enough so Richie can hear it.

Suddenly, Richie thinks he’ll have a heart attack. His chest aches and his feet seem to melt on the ground, he can’t move a single muscle. It’s terrifying and, for a second, he swears he sees a clown over Eddies shoulder. A familiar figure of a clown. A tiny bit of panic tickles under his skin.

“That was cheesy as fuck”, it’s the only thing he can say. Eddie’s palms are less sweaty now and he knows by the look in Richie’s eyes that he missed him too.

“Sorry... Good night.”

“I’m thinking of staying a couple of days"< Rich blurts out. He knows the other didn't ask but he wants him to know anyway. "Might perform here and there, give out autographs.”

His pleading eyes go from the ground to Eddie's face, searching for some indication that he's interested. That he wants to meet again.

“Will you go back at the bar we were earlier?” He instantly regrets asking.

“Nah, not a chance. Gavin's a dick.”

Rich itches the back of his neck, still sweating a little. He always got nervous being alone with Eddie... But, at the same time, he needs more of whatever this is. "Unless you show up."

Richie clicks his tongue, pointing finger guns at Eds. He's very good in acting like he's not exploding inside. How stupid is that he would perform every night at the same place, if Eddie was there? Stupid as fuck, he thinks. And he’d do it anyway.

Eddie’s cheeks turn flushed. He murmurs a good night while rushing to open the door, and Richie says it back, with a natural Eddie Spaguetti to complement it. It makes them smile even more.

He wishes he could stay with that smile all night long, talking and laughing with his childhood friend. It's easier now to be around Richie cause they've grown up, they're not that dumb and insecure anymore. Eddie realizes he never felt much at ease with Myra. And as soon as he enters the appartment, the soft smile that Richie caused has completely vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I still don’t know if coming here was a good idea...”  
> “You fucking kidding me, Kraspbrak? It was the best idea you had in years! Because i was the one who implanted it. C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t feel this.”  
> “Feel what, Richie?”  
> Richie’s hands are trembling, feet too, but he could get used to that if it’s for Eddie. He looks around the bar, scared that they’ll get caught being too gay or something like that, and moves to sit closer to the other, thighs almost touching.  
> “This.” He puts a delicate hand on Eddie’s thigh, holding his breath and gazing at him. Eddie’s eyes are locked on the ground beneath the table. He can’t breathe, his lungs are failing on him. He’s gonna die he’s gonna die he’s gonna die-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw : fainting  
> here's the second chapter!! hope u like it! also, let me know if there are any mistakes.  
> third chapter may have some nsfw so stay watching.

It was hard explaining things to his wife without having a fight. Her arguments, as usual, were pure desperation and they made Eddie feel like shit.

He isn’t a good liar, but he couldn’t tell her the truth either, cause the truth is he didn’t even care to answer her calls, he was having fun and knew she would ruin it. They were much alike, Eddie thought; he used to ruin everything for other people too.

Myra said – better, squealed that he shouldn’t be going out to drink with people he didn’t know well. They could get him drunk just to mess with him, he could vomit or pass out or vomit _and_ pass out. She yelled at him for being irresponsible and even brought up his mom, which made him question everything that happened that night.

Maybe she was right. Eddie was only alive because of his mom, who had taken care of him his whole life. Myra was trying to do that for him too, but he wouldn’t listen. Maybe Richie was just a coincidence, a small and good thing that he couldn’t have. Because he was meant to live in anxiety forever.

Eddie didn’t say a thing back. He tried but he was too hazy to fight back, defend himself. He was confused and went straight to bed. Unfortunetly, he didn’t get much sleep.

In the morning, he wakes up an hour earlier. He gets ready to work, white shirt and plain tie, but it’s too early to go to work so he looks up online which hotel Richie’s staying.

He spent the whole night thinking, trying to figure out what he should do. He’s been married to Myra for 4 years and after seeing Richie again, he started to realize all the small things their marriage forced him to deny.

Eddie whispers Trashmouth a thousand times when he misses him – sometimes, he even whispers the things Richie used to call him, just to remind him how it feels. He sees his name on every R in every document at work. Whenever his mind is stuck in bad thoughts, he thinks of Richie’s laugh, the one the remembers of, when they were kids. It’s good and all these years he kept asking himself if his laugh had changed.

That’s the answer he needs.

He goes to work and ends up not working that much, his mind is everywhere but there. His boss doesn’t mind, really, Eddie’s still the best among his co-workers, afterall, he’s the most paranoid of them. And at the end of the day, he’s the one that suggest they go out to drink.

“The bar from yesterday was actually alright”, one of them says. The others agree in almost unisound. They don’t have much opinion about things other than analytics, really. Richie would laugh of them and call them pricks, it makes Eddie smile when he thinks about it.

“We should go there, then.”

In 10 minutes, five men wearing ugly ties are ordering drinks as soon as they enter the bar. Eddie can’t think of drinking – not if it’s not with Richie.

They sit on a table, their eyes seem to watch everyone in the place, but one of them, Daniel, notices Eddie’s acting different. He’s the most reasonable one.

“Eddie, are you alright?”

“Hm?”

“I asked you if you’re alright. I saw the boss going at your desk today. And when you suggested we went out for a couple drinks, i was surprised. No offense, but you’re not the kind to go out much. Everything okay?”

Eddie tries to look at him while he also searches Richie’s thin figure around the dim bar.

“Yeah, yeah, i’m okay. Just work talk, the usual.” He doesn’t know exactly what he meant by work talk, as he couldn’t care less for the question.

With Richie coming to New York and them meeting and feeling all sorts of things, Eddie wasn’t sure if anything in his life was chosen by him. He figured his mother was pulling strings here and there so he could follow what she wanted for him; a good wife, a stable job and that fucking car. Did he really want to become a risk analyst? Perhaps there were other jobs he might be good at. His boss kept talking about how clever and fast he was at preveting big companies to shit themselves – he used that term, a very formal man -, and he was avaluating if he really liked that.

He was starting to think about it when Gavin’s voice was indentified loudly at the stage and he felt sweat dripping on his forehead. Shit, this is it. Eddie came just to see him, and Richie came just to see Eddie. Something was clicking slowly in his head.

“We meet again new yorkers!” Richie’s voice sounds more transparent than the night before. It sounds good, like something Eddie could hear everyday for years.

The famous Trashmouth show goes on. The audience laughs their socks off, Eddie can’t take his eyes off Richie, and Richie tries hard not to stare at Eddie. He’s the only one that needs to now about his horrendous gay love for him.

“Guys, is it okay if i ditch you for tonight? I mean, not ditch, that’s ... kinda rude, i just-” He’s nervous, he can’t believe he’s saying this.

“Aah, really? You were the one that brought us here, Kraspbrak!” Two of them object, insist that he stays with them, but Daniel tells them to shut up so Eddie can explain himself.

“Uh, thanks Daniel. It’s not much, just a childhood friend of mine is here today...” He looks around and spots Richie coming his way, looking nervous too. The guys at the table notice they exchanging looks and their eyes shine brighter.

“Wow, hol’ up, is your friend Richie Tozier?”

“My wife would go crazy if i took a picture with him, c’mon, Eddie!”

He gives in (no surprise) and ends up taking Richie to their table. He’s not that comfortable, but he takes the pictures and jokes a little. Eyes hardly leaving Eddie’s small body beside him.

When it’s all done, the two of them awkwardly slide to a corner table at the back of the bar, near the stage. It’s darker and the people aren’t crowding Richie anymore. They sit down in front of each other, Eddie drops his coat between the round couch.

“Hi”, he whispers.

“Hey”. Richie’s voice is lower and Eddie’s cheeks burst in red, he can feel them burning. After 25 years, the flush that Richie causes on him is just the same.

“Those are your friends? They look like a couple of assholes.”

“Oh, look who’s talking! We work at the same department. They are not that bad.”

“... But they’re pretty bad, aren’t they?”

Eddie hates that devilish smile on Richie’s face. It warms up his body in a second.

“Yeah, they are.”

The laughs are back. They order drinks, even some fries, to remember the old times. They can’t stop looking at each other even chewing. It’s disgustingly cute, Richie tells himself, the way Eddie slowly eats his fries like he’s afraid they’ll jump and eat his face.

“I’m glad you came,” Tozier finally says it and Eddie almost chokes on his fries.

“Yeah, me too. Had a tough time explaining last night to Myra, though... So... I still don’t know if coming here was a good idea.”

“You fucking kidding me, Kraspbrak? It was the best idea you had in years! Because i was the one who implanted it. C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t feel this.”

“Feel what, Richie?”

Richie’s hands are trembling, feet too, but he could get used to that if it’s for Eddie. He looks around the bar, scared that they’ll get caught being too gay or something like that, and moves to sit closer to the other, thighs almost touching.

“This.” He puts a delicate hand on Eddie’s thigh, holding his breath and gazing at him. Eddie’s eyes are locked on the ground beneath the table. He can’t breathe, his lungs are failing on him. He’s gonna die he’s gonna die he’s gonna die-

His face goes up in panic to look at Richie and all the air seems to come back. No inhalor needed, no heart attack or anything. Richie’s all the oxygen Eddie will ever need.

They sit like that for a few seconds, looking at each other and sensing the electricity between them. They talk a little too, Richie has some new mom jokes and Eddie can’t believe he still laughs at them.

Although the bar is noisy, loud music and loud conversation reverberating on the red wine walls, they only hear each other’s words. Eddie tries to look at the time on his watch, but Richie stops him everytime. “No offense but fuck your wife”, Rich says. “She had you all to herself for years, i deserve some Ed Time, don’t you think?”

That sentence hits them a little too hard. What are they doing? Eddie’s has a wife that loves him, a steady job, a good apartment and an even better car. There’s this little voice repeating this inside his head and he hates it; it’s not Richie’s voice so he tries so hard to ignore it but it won’t go away. They order more drinks, laugh a little more, but that thing is still there, like a bug behind his ear telling him to shut up and go home. Shut up and go home already.

“Rich, what are we doing?”, he finally asks. Richie’s hand slowly backs away from his thigh and leaves an empty and cold feeling in his tiny body.

“Whatcha mean, Eduardo? We’re having fun, that’s what we’re doing. Is this thing you haven’t done in years.”

“No, stop, i mean... What are we really doing? What do you want from me? Do you have any idea how hard it was to come here tonight?”

There’s nothing that Richie can say that will answer properly what Eddie’s asking. He can’t possibly tell that he’s been in love with him ever since they were kids, that he thinks about him everyday and that he wants Eddie to be his and his only. It hurts a little in his chest.

“Shit, Eduardo, too many questions. And didn’t even stutter, that’s a 10, right there.”

“I’m serious, Richie.” He wants to cry. “Why can’t you take this serious, for once in a life time?!”

“Okay, ‘kay... I think the thing we’re doing here is... trying to figure out if this”, he points his finger to him and Eddie freneticlly, “Can work. If we can work. I want it to work so bad, Eds. My agent got me booked all week to perform here just for the chance of you coming again. Fuck, that’s saying something, right?”

“Yeah, but how could this possibly work?? I’m married, i-”

“Are you happy?”

It’s weird to see that question coming from Richie. It doesn’t sound like him but, again, he’s being serious afterall. Isn’t that what Ed wants? He was willing to perform every night at this place for the slight opportunity to see him again.

He would never do that for Myra. Funny thing, he would never be in a place like this with her. Things were finally lighting up in the way of his small and cruel anxities.

“It’s not a matter of being happy, Rich, it’s about...” Tozier raises an eyebrow. “No, I... I don’t think i’m happy.”

He lets out a heavy sigh, and with it comes the weight of everything he was carrying, the small anxities are still there but almost imperceptible, as it’s been days since Eddie fed them. It’s a good thing.

“Can we go to my place?”

“You don’t have a place.”

“The hotel is my place, Eds, they love me there! Don’t forget i’m famous.”

There’s a supressed giggle and they’re soon leaving the bar. Richie goes first, pays for the fries and the drinks. Eddie tells his friends goodbye and gets to the cashier, to realize Rich has paid for him too.

They go discretly to Richie’s room. It’s quiet and filled with soft colors, the only light is coming from the lamp at the side of the bed.

“Don’t know why hotels are always beige. I’d like a green wall or Scooby-Doo sheets.”

“Yeah”, Ed murmurs. Richie sits at the end of the bed, the other stays standing up. Hands fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. One that his mom knitted for him as a last gift.

“We can get serious here. _Super serious._ If you want someone serious, i’m the guy for you”, Rich states, trying to break the ice. But there’s no ice to break, it kinda already melted. That’s what he pictures in his mind; he’s in a puddle of grey water with Eddie and neither of them wants to be stuck there, but they need to do it. They need to try.

“I’m not happy”, Kraspbrak says. “I get it now. But there’s not much i can do, there’s no better than this.”

“We could try better than this.” **We.** _We?_ There’s a "we" for Richie. It should exist for Eddie too.

“You want me to, what, ask for divorce? Myra would die! Before dying, she would kill me. I do everything for her, i would never hurt her feelings.”

“Women are complicated, i get it, Eds. But i don’t think you’ve ever thought of yourself. When we were young, it was all for your mom, and now it’s all for this Myra. I don't think you even love her.”

“I loved her once.”

God, he admitted it. Their eyes go wide, Richie licks his lips. Eddie doesn’t love her anymore.

“If you don’t love her anymore, ya’ know, it’s kind of a jerk move to stay married with her. You’re lying to yourself and to her, to everybody.”

Eddie steps closer, he’s still looking at the walls or the ground or anything that’s not Richie’s worried eyes on him.

“Maybe... But it’s easier this way.”

“There’s no easy, Eduardo!”, his voice is stronger now. “There’s only hard and painful, but you gotta think of yourself. You deserve better.”

“You think you’re better?”

“I know I am. And you don’t have to give up your job, car and apartment, those are _your_ things. I... just wanna be one of them.”

“You’re not a thing, Richie.” Eddie’s trying very hard not to let the two of them say something that’ll change everything. He’s not sure he can bare too much change – even if it’s good, he’d never do it alone.

Luckily, he has Richie.

“Fuck, Eddie, you can be so stupid sometimes. I’m trying to tell you I love you!”

The trembling, the sweating, the nervous hands in his sweater and eyes blinking like crazy, it all comes back with just that word. _Love._ His mind is dizzy, trying to check if this wasn’t a joke, but he can tell by Richie’s eyes he’s the most serious he’s ever been. **It is love.** Eddie feels it too, he just can’t say it. He’d be telling this guy in a hotel room he loves him while his wife is at home waiting for him. He thought that’s what he wanted, to be with Richie and to finally fall into place with all the Rs at work and the whispered nicknames.

Richie's hand holds out to squeeze Eddie’s and his next words are dipped in honey and fear – not the nicest combination, yet he says it anyway, as is if it wasn’t enough to say it once. “I love you.”

It doesn't surprise him when Eddie passes out, he just thought it would happen sooner.


End file.
